THE SAD YEARS
FOR HE HAD GREAT POSSESSIONS
And I had died before the spring had come,
When winter's kiss upon the fields was cold,
And no small seed had broken up the land,
Then had I died, whose earthly hours were told.
I should have liked to see the snowdrop rise,
And pressed my lips upon the primrose bowl,
To see the thousand spear-heads of new grass,
But death had called to my half-willing soul.
And as I passed there came the sound of tears,
Disturbing me and dropping o'er my face;
I could not plead for mercy from their grief
With “Stay thy tears that chill my resting-place.”
But I returned, in pity for their lot,
Stood by my bed to see my kindred there;
About my house I heard their footsteps go,
Finding my goods and seeking each his share.
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